The Lucky Ones
by Hakhin
Summary: They've had so many years of pretending to be what they're not and now when they've finally got this, they'll be damned if they live another day without enjoying all the simple things in life. Clint/Natasha


**A/N: **Alright! This is by far the longest one shot I have ever written... I think. Anyways, it's written in Natasha's POV. Hopefully she isn't too out of character. And also, thanks to everyone so far who have reviewed to my Clint/Natasha fics!

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She knows this every moment of every other day but mostly on days like these when the clouds are particularly gloomy and the air is heavy. She doesn't know if it's the smell of the approaching rain or the gloomy feel of the sky itself that makes her remember. But there's something about sitting under the clouds and breathing it all in that reminds her of how human she actually is. Its days like these that make her want to thank something, someone, anyone and anything that was responsible for leading her to all of this and ultimately, too him.

If it wasn't for him she would have never learned how to be a better person. She would have never learned how to trust, how to need or desire or want somebody for more than just what intel they had to offer. She would never have gotten the chance to know what it was like to love someone in such an absolute sort of way the way she does with him now. She would never know the feeling she gets when she returns from a mission after weeks or months of not having seen him. She would never understand the comfort and the homeliness she feels when she's sitting beside him with her hands in his in the chopper that picked them up from the middle of the desert where they had been slowly waiting to die after a mission had gone particularly south ward.

She would have never known how strangely complete it felt to have that ring on her finger, even though they hardly wore it these days because of the things they had to do in the field. But it was always dangling at their necks, always touching the skin on her chest and reminding her of what they've actually become to each other. She always thought it was a much better place for it to sit anyway because it was so much closer to her heart.

But most of all, the one thing that still reminds her to this day just how lucky she was that he found her all those years ago, was the little boy in her arms. The one with slightly red brownish curled hair like hers and a face that greatly resembled his father's, sitting on her lap staring down at the city.

She knew that Tony would comment about how insane she was and then add afterwards that him flying to school in his suit with his daughter in his arms when he couldn't be bothered to wait in traffic was somehow completely different. She knew that Thor wouldn't blink an eye because if asked to comment he'd just say that he trusted her enough to know that she knew exactly what she was doing. She knew that Steve would probably raise a brow but at the same time be too afraid of her to actually say anything just because he didn't want to offend her. She knew that Bruce would just smile and tell her not to be out too long because the rain was coming soon.

She would never tell them but she did listen to everything that they said when they said it to her or when they mumbled it in hope she hadn't been listening. It didn't change who she was and it most certainly didn't change the way she did things. She knew of course that sitting on the highest point of the Avenger's Tower with her son beside her, dangling their legs over the ledge was probably pushing it. But she knew exactly what she was doing and she knew he loved it more than she did because he always told her he could see the city so much better from afar. She always told his father about that and they always smiled together about how much he was really starting to take after that silly 'Blackhawk' nickname Tony had given him when he was born.

"Mommy, what are you thinking about?" his little voice drifts over the wind and she smiles despite herself when his father too turns to look at her, clearly waiting in anticipation for her answer.

"Hmm…"

"Penny for your thoughts," his voice is hoarse and lower, but still gentle all the same even when he adds as an afterthought, "mommy…"

"Daddy!" the little voice between them exclaims and she laughs this time when his little face scrunches up to a frown, "Only I'm allowed to call mommy, mommy."

She watches as his brow tilts slightly as if he's deep in thought before he says, "Mom, then?"

"No, no, no, you're supposed to call her, darling or that nickname you always call her," his little face is still frowning as he lays down the law as if it is the most important thing in the world.

"Hmmm…. Darling seems a bit too out of character for us, bud" he chuckles as his eyes warm when he looks at her, "your mommy and I have to maintain a certain level of scariness after all."

"But you're not scary to me," his little voice murmurs and she smiles again when she slides her hand onto his little cheek.

"That's because we love you," she tells him before she drifts her eyes to his older, wiser ones and adds, "and we're never scary to the ones we love."

"You're scary to daddy sometimes," he tells her in that little voice of his.

"That's because sometimes daddy needs a good scare," she tells him, her eyes still glazing into his older, wiser, fuller ones.

She watches as he bends and murmurs in their sons little ear. His eyes are still on hers and she knows that though she can't see his lips, he's smiling as he says them.

"You tell mommy, daddy never needs a scare, he's getting too old to handle that kind of thing," he tells their son in that gentle voice he always uses when he's talking to their son.

"But mommy can hear you already."

"Mommy's too scary to talk too," he says which earns a smile from her.

"Jeremy, Jeremy, Jeremy…" The voice calls from behind them and altogether at once they look to find little Ella skipping to a halt at the doorway in her denim shorts, purple round neck shirt and a bear in her hand. "Want to play?"

Ella looks almost like the identical copy of Pepper with the brown hair being the only touch of Tony in her. It greatly offends Tony most of the time and she always makes it a point to comment about it when the children are playing just so that she could get the kicks out of having a one up on Tony. But now days the man is a lot more tolerating and rather than responding with an equally sarcastic remark he smiles now and laughs as if happy to poke fun at himself. It's a newer side of him that all of them are slowly getting used too but it's a better one, a wiser one that they will actually admit they respect.

"Of course," his little voice proclaims from between them.

She loosens her hold around his arm and she holds onto the side of the ledge as he lowers their little boy to the floor behind them.

"Don't go bothering your Uncle Bruce, you two," she listens as he continues to remind the children just exactly what happened the last time they decided to play chase in Bruce's lab.

"Or your Uncle Steve either," she adds as an afterthought because she suddenly remembers the time they thought riding his shield down the steps was a fantastic idea.

"Unless he's in the shower or something then steal his Shield and go to town with it down the steps but don't get caught because we all remember what happened last time," he says in his lower, softer voice which despite the hoarseness she could have sworn sounded like their little son.

She frowns of course and he chuckles despite that and ruffles at their little son's hair before the children grudgingly say their 'okays' before running off disappearing into the doorway.

She leans into him when the silence returns and the serenity of the afternoon and the thoughts she had earlier dawns on her again. He's silent beside her but he holds her close and it's all she needs to remember the time she first found out that she was pregnant with Jeremy.

It hadn't been the way she exactly imagined she would have discovered it. But now when she thought about it, the whole notion seemed fitting for people like them. She had just returned from a mission particularly battered and bruised. But he hadn't been home to dress her wounds that day as he had been on a different mission with Tony somewhere down the coast. She had grudgingly gone into the lab to seek out Bruce, knowing that the doctor was much better at dressing her wounds than any other medical doctor at SHIELD's headquarters.

During the wound clean up Bruce had found a few shards of rusty metal in the wound at her knee and immediately insisted that he'd do a blood test just to be sure. She didn't blame him for worrying about her because she knew that whilst he'd partly have two men and a god to answer too, he also had Clint to answer too and that was far worse than even the green man in him.

She remembered having sat patiently on one of the medical beds as he busied himself with checking her blood at the table not too far away. She didn't think much of the blood test as she was far too busy with thinking about how she couldn't wait to go back to their room and burry under the blankets until he returned from his mission. She remembered noticing a quizzical look passing over Bruce's face before he pushed himself to a stand and turned to look at her and then back at the paper in his hand again. At the time she assumed she probably had a mild infection or something that would be quickly cleared with some serum he'd come up with.

But in all of her years and of all the times she had spent in any infirmary, listening to a doctor tell her that she was pregnant was probably the last thing she ever imagined she would ever hear.

It had surprized her so much that she didn't even properly process it until days later when he had returned from his mission. He had been battered and bruised too and when she had found him in the infirmary with Bruce hovering around him, it all fell in place and suddenly, despite everything that was going to change between them, she felt quite pleasantly happy. She remembered that Bruce kept giving her these weird looks and she remembered that Clint had noticed too because his first words to her after Bruce had left them alone were, 'please don't tell me the green guy actually tried to hit on you?'

She was actually quite amazed at how calm she had been when she smiled at him and instead told him the green guy never would because she didn't do green men. She only did one and she was in fact staring at him. She knew that would be a rather big stroke to his ego and after all she was only trying to prepare him from the news that was going to fundamentally change everything between them. Her announcement didn't quite take him by surprize and he reacted in the strangest ways she never imagined he would.

It wiped the smirk off his face which was expected, but then he cried and stumbled to push the table away that was half over the medical bed just so that he could hold her. He didn't listen to her protests of his opening that wound that Bruce had only sewed up moments ago. He only held her face in his hands and kissed her and then proceeded to hold her for as long as he possibly could so that he could repeatedly whisper how he was going to take such good care of her and how he was going to love her until the end of time.

"I'm going to hazard a guess as to what you're thinking about," his voice is gentle and warm when he whispers into her ear.

"Hmm…give it your best shot," she murmurs softly back to him, smiling all the while as he nuzzles her ear.

"I'll narrow it down to the following three," he says softly.

She laughs and says, "I thought your shots were better than that."

"They are… or were," he tells her and smiles when he adds, "I am getting old after all."

"I seem to recall a certain shot you drew the other day to a target moving faster than I could even keep up with," she tells him.

"That's different," he defends quickly but the smile on his lips is noticeable even after he adds, "I'm not trying to kill you, so my aim is a little off."

"Just a little?"

"Okay," he sighs, "It's completely off. But we're digressing, I'm guessing what you're thinking about…"

"Yes, darling," she smiles warmly up at him and he chuckles and shakes his head at her.

"First attempt, you're thinking about the time I accidentally proposed during a mission?"

"That still gets me to this day, you know," she tells him softly, "I don't quite know how you went throughout that entire interrogation actually lying to them while pumped with that truth serum but yet telling me the truth about all your plans the instant I stepped into the room to rescue you."

He smiles at her with that very cockish look on his face before he adds, "You just have that kind of effect on me, darling."

She rolls her eyes at him but still smiles and says, "I wasn't thinking about that one, unfortunately."

"How about a clue then? I do have certain expectations to keep up too and I can't if I use up all my attempts without any success."

"You could always call for back up," she murmurs.

"I'm staring at it."

"That's just too bad…" she laughs and smiles at him.

"Okay, okay, that's how we're playing it huh?"

"Just one question for a hint, that's all," she tells him as she slides a hand up his chest.

"Was it about me?"

She shakes her head and tries not to give anything away in her expressions.

"Jeremy then?"

"That was two questions," she exclaims and knows instantly that she's given it away.

"It's about me and Jeremy, hmm… now I just need to think of a good memory of the two of your most favourite men in the world."

"You've just lost an attempt for breaking a rule," she tells him.

"That's hardly fair," he exclaims but still smiles at her.

"10 seconds before you lose your last attempt," she whispers softly to him.

"Tasha, that's completely-"

"5 seconds…"

"Okay, okay, I give up, I have no idea," he submits and sighs dramatically, burying his face in her neck instead.

She feels his lips on her necks moments after and she laughs and soon after he's laughing too. She really isn't sure what they're laughing about but it's nice to just enjoy the moment and to enjoy this with him. They've had so many years of pretending to be what they're not and now when they've finally got this, they'll be damned if they live another day without enjoying all the simple things in life.

Their laughter settles after a few moments and now she's stroking his hair just as he's running his hand up and down her back. They're embracing sideways and she's starting to feel a cramp at the side of her neck, but she pushes it out of her mind because she's just enjoying this too much to end it so soon over something so silly.

"I was thinking about the day I told you I was pregnant," she whispers into his ear.

"Huh… really?"

She nods against him and whispers a yes.

"That's funny, because I was thinking about that too."

"Then why didn't you guess that?"

"Because I thought you'd be fantasizing about my sexy body," he answers as if it is the most obvious answer in the world.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah…"

"Just you admit it, Tasha, you think I'm god's gift to women."

"Yes, you are but not women, just one…."

"God's gift to Natasha Romanoff?"

"That's better."

"Possessive much?"

"I'm scary remember?"

"Yeah, yeah, I remember, oh great scary one."

"At least I didn't cry," she says softly knowing what kind of reaction would follow.

He groans despite the wonderful moment they were having and he buries his head in her tresses again and exclaims, "I really wish you'd forget about that. I can't believe after all these years you're still reminding be about that."

"I thought it was rather sweet."

"I was as high as a kite…."

"I still love you all the same," she tells him.

"Yeah, yeah, you're lucky I love you…"

"I know."

"I'm lucky too, though," he adds seriously this time.

"Мы счастливчики," she tells him quite simply. _We're the lucky ones._

"Вот, мы," he says with a tone resembling some kind of finality of what she isn't exactly sure. _That, we are._

They've seen so much in their lives. They've been tortured, drugged, shot, stabbed and almost blown up several times. They've killed more men than they would ever want to know and they've almost been killed more times than they would ever want to imagine. But they've made it here and in the whole, they've done pretty well.

They are the lucky ones. They may not have all the money in the world or that white picket fence suburbia kind of lifestyle they imagined. But they had this, they had a home and they had each other. That was enough and that is all they will ever need.


End file.
